


Belonging

by nataliefn



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And watching a bunch of horror movies, F/M, I've been binging Criminal Minds, M/M, Presents, Ramsay's Dogs - Freeform, Reporter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 07:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataliefn/pseuds/nataliefn
Summary: How taking a picture could go so wrong, Theon will never know...





	Belonging

Theon sat by his desk and tried to remain calm, despite his heart trying to all but leap out of his chest. This was a joke, a stupid joke, this was nothing. So why couldn't he convince himself of that? He stared down at what lay on his desk, it had seemed so normal, beautiful even. A pink box, not much larger than what you'd expect to receive a bracelet in. The wrapping had looked professional, elaborate ribbons and a tiny card attached to said ribbons. In a hand written mix of cursive and print, clearly stating the words "My love, we'll be together soon, please accept my gift as a token for what we shall be." If he didn't know what he knew, this might actually have brought a smile to his face. Instead of the pit that rested in his stomach. He'd meant to grab his phone, to dial 911, to do anything. There was only one answer about who this was from. Finally getting the courage to remove his hand from his mouth, Theon carefully reached out, his entire arm trembling as he took the box in hand. There was a good weight to it but it shifted as he moved it. "Get ahold of yourself Theon," the boys tells himself. A long inhale and on the exhale, he pulled the string, watching as the elaborate knot came undone, the ribbons slipping from the box. He let them fall unceremoniously into his lap, too intent on the box itself. Another inhale, another exhale. He couldn't do it, instead he set the box down back on the desk and pushed up, to get a glass of water he told himself but he knew the truth, he just wanted to be as far away from that box as possible. How could one picture have caused such chaos he'd never know.

...

"What an arrogant smile you have, how I'd love to carve it from your face." With each word, he'd grown angrier, more undone. Theon shivered at the memory, recalling how those thick fingers caressed his cheek, while the other hand grabbed for the camera strap around his neck. "Do you like taking pictures?" Slowly, so slowly that Theon had actually questioned if it was actually happening, he was pulling the straps tight and then the hand that had been caressing his cheek, slipped down the grab one side. With a jerk on either side, the strap constricted around his throat. "Maybe I should take pictures of you." Stars started to cloud his vision, making it hard to see, to comprehend what was happening. His knees hit the pavement, he wanted to cry out, to scream but there was no air left. Just as quickly as he'd constrained him, the air was back, the straps no longer tightening, in fact the camera was gone completely. The air felt toxic, he sputtered, dry heaving as it rushed to fill his lungs again. "I like this one," the man says, conversationally. Theon blinked back tears and looked up at the man. He was going through his pictures, critiquing them as he went. "But none are nearly as appetizing as the picture you make right now." Those too gray eyes flashed to him now, the camera be damned, he bolted, running as fast as he could out of the alleyway he'd been trapped in. With every footstep he expected to be grabbed, to be dragged back where no one could hear him scream, but nothing of the sort happened. He made it to his car and was back on the highway in seconds.

...

The incident left him scared for weeks later, the only reminder was the fact that he now had to save up for a new camera, at least he had a back up. Otherwise it became but a memory, except he would never go near a story about Ramsay Bolton ever again, money be damned. The message had been clear. He chugged his third glass of water, putting off the inevitable. On stiff legs, he walked back to his desk and sat down, wishing he'd gone home with everyone else, damn these late nights... He had so many projects to finish, this wasn't helping. Fuck this, he picked up the box and put it on the far side of his desk, instead he gave his laptop his full attention, typing up his article about Robb Starks rise to power. Not nearly as sensational as a story on the bastard that was shrouded in misery. No! He wasn't thinking of Ramsay right now, this was exactly what the asshole wanted. Yet he couldn't help but be drawn into those memories.

...

Two weeks, he'd gone two weeks with out so much as hearing a word about the elusive brute. He'd walked into work, juggling his laptop bag, a coffee, and his camera case, a powdered donut hung from his mouth, threatening to drop at any moment if he didn't hurry up to his desk. Theon swung his case onto the desk with not a second to spare, catching the donut mid drop.

"Impressive." His blood ran cold, all but freezing in place. He looked up, ever so slowly, willing it to all be in his mind. A smile that could only be described as cruel, rested on Ramsay Boltons face as he stared down at him. To this day, a shiver went down his spine thinking about it. "Sit," that same cold voice orders, gesturing to the seat in a movement that had to purposefully be that fast.

Rushing to obey, he fell into his seat, gripping the donut so hard it smushed in his hand, not that he noticed. No, he was too intent on staring at the man before him that had the audacity to chuckle at him. One of his arms was obscured behind him, there's no way he'd hurt him surrounded by his coworkers right?

"Your boss all but threw me over here when I told him we had an interview."

"We do?"

"Oh poor dumb Theon, of course not. But I needed to get close enough to give you this." Theon had flinched as he swung what was behind his back out onto the desk with a slam, causing people to look their way but when nothing more happened, interest was completely lost. An odd looking leather case now sat on the desk. "That tattered old bag just didn't seem nice enough for such an expensive camera, so I made you one special."

How Ramsay made a bag so ominous was beyond Theon. "Why," was all he could think to say.

"Why not?" A long pause and Ramsay leaned in further, his aroma filling the air, he smelled of wood and something coppery. "I deleted the pictures of course, I know you understand. But don't fret too much pet, I replaced them with some of my own."  
His heart was going a mile a minute, trying to pump blood that would rather freeze. The standoff only became more prominent as Ramsay rounded the desk, those thick fingers were on him again, the smell of copper becoming more prominent as he gripped his shoulder. Theon hands clenched harder, the donut completely flattened and chunks of it fell on his lap and the floor. He could feel Ramsays warm breath caress his ear, hear his soft puffs of breath and then a long exhale. "You reek of fear, I like that." And then he was gone, Theon didn't move, not then, nor for fifteen minutes after.

...

Theon slammed the desk hard, he was through with this bastard controlling his life, he needed to move on away from these memories. He'd made it a good hour into his article before he'd had enough, it was time to go home, the box left discarded, he didn't have the energy for it tonight . Hours later, while he was laying in bed, Ramsay came to mind again, there would be no peace it seemed. 

...

That day he had left the case where Ramsay had set it, too afraid to know what pictures Ramsay had taken, perhaps it was best he didn't know. He was hungrily eating lunch, he'd spent all morning mourning the loss of his donut and he was starving. As he ate, he listened to messages from his fiancé, he'd proposed just a three short weeks ago. A week before he had his run in with Ramsay. The whole reason he was in this mess actually, thanks to the blue diamond ring he'd bought her, he needed the extra money, money that an article about the son of a mob boss would definitely bring. She was so excited going on and on about plans for the wedding, he'd smiled, for a moment forgetting about the bag and the camera that was inside.

Once lunch was done and he wasn't so terrified, he finally got up the courage to grab the bag, in a quick movement, he pulled the bag into lap before he could talk himself out of it. It felt strange, like no material he had ever felt. He was going to discard it as soon as possible, the last thing he needed was Ramsay getting the wrong idea. "You reek of fear, I like that." The words echoed in his mind. He pulled out his camera and practically threw the case across the cluttered desk, knocking over some papers in the process. Oh well, he'd get to that later. The last thing he needed was to talk himself out of this. He flicked the device on, not surprised to see the battery low.

Theon held his breath as he clicked the gallery button, it all coming to a very anticlimactic end, all that was displayed was the picture of a dog. It appeared to be a bully breed of some sort with a big blocky head and piercing yellow eyes. He tried so hard to see anything off about it, but the harder he looked the more normal it became. Maybe the chain around its neck was too thick and the dirt in the fur off-putting, but it was still just a dog. He checked the image count and found there to be six. Inhale, exhale, next. This one was of the same dog but now there was something red all over its face, the chain gone, and it was definitely in a different location. Next. The next one took him longer to make out, unsure of what he was looking at but slowly he made out hair strands and yellow and red chunks. He couldn't stare at it any longer and clicked next, instantly regretting the decision. This picture was of his apartment building, just the front of it but the implication was there. His hand rose to his mouth as he clicked next, tears springing at the sight of his door, the number 237 staring back at him. He didn't want to click next, he didn't want it to get worse. His curiosity got the best of him and he clicked the button. Three seconds, three seconds he got to look at the image before the camera died. But it had been enough, he knew what he'd been looking at. His own sleeping face, laying in bed.

...

The same bed he was in now, he thought, pulling back from his thoughts once again. He shouldn't dwell he knew but it was hard not to, not with the threat of Ramsay still hanging in the air. He'd wished he had just opened the box, he needed to know what had laid inside it. Theon knew he wouldn't be getting sleep tonight until he knew. "Fuck," he growls, getting up and throwing clothes back on. At least it was only a few minutes away by car, no big deal, he didn't even have to pay attention to the drive anymore, it was on autopilot. But right about now, he wished it wasn't.

...

The final Ramsay incident occurred just a few days later, at the engagement party. It took place at a bar, so anyone could be there, there were no rules against that. But he knew it wasn't a coincidence that Ramsay Bolton and his gang of thugs just happened to be there too, not a chance.

"You don't look as assured of yourself as you did the first time we met," the words were spoken directly behind him as he leaned over the bar to order. "What's the matter Reek, something get under your skin, or perhaps someone?" He absolutely hated the way Ramsay said the word skin, it filled his ears and made him want to cut them right off.

Theon turned, eyes blazing, feeling rage overcome the fear. "You stay the fuck away from me." The name he called him still sat heavy in the air but if he thought about that too much, the fear might come back.

"You shouldn't speak to me that way. In fact, you wont."

"Or what? You'll break into my home as I sleep? Oh wait, you already did that."

"Reek, I'm warning you."

"Don't call me that!"

Some of the patrons looked their way, Kyra actually getting out of her seat to walk over. "Theon, honey, is everything okay?" She stood between them, looking between the two men, concern clear across her face.

"Everything's fine." He hadn't told her, hadn't explained the new lock on the door, hadn't told her why he was so on edge. She assumed it was money related stress, she blamed herself. Now she stood between them, not backing down from Ramsays icy glare.

"Not to worry, I simply bring an engagement gift." He handed the small cube shaped box to Theon with a smile, before walking away like he'd never even been there. Though the looks from his goons weren't missed as they exited the building.

"That was... odd," Kyra says, reaching for the box, confused when Theon pulled it away, out of reach. "Do you know him?"

...

Theon slammed on his breaks with a curse as a kid on a bike, crossed the street out of nowhere, he laid on the horn, but honestly he was happy to be pulled from his thought. One block, just one more block and then he'd know... The rain echoed around the car, the sound of it sending shivers up his back, everything seemed to put him on edge nowadays.

...

That box he'd taken to the bathroom to open, not being able to wait to find out, the stress would kill him before Ramsay did. It had been the same type of pink box that now laid on his desk, waiting for him, ribbons and all. Hidden amongst tissue paper laid a ring of the same creepy leather as the camera bag, which he'd shoved deep into one of his desk drawers. Attached to the ring, on a d-ring sat a bone shaped tag, the inscription read : Reek Property of Ramsay Bolton, on two lines. With a scream, he'd thrown it across the room, a silent cry as he covered his mouth and fell to the floor, praying no one walked in. This was all too much, he couldn't take anymore of it!

...

He'd eventually walked over and grabbed the collar, it now sat in the desk, inside the camera bag. All he could imagine was that another leather accessory was now in this stupid pink box. As he walked in the rain towards the door, he was grateful that Kyra was on a business trip for the week, she didn't need to see him undone like this. Theon stuck his key in the door, freezing when it was already unlocked. Well it was a good thing he'd come back, he must have been so frazzled that he forgot to lock the door, that would definitely get him fired. He actually felt relieved as he walked in, locked the door behind him and started towards his desk. Yet another oddity, he swore that he'd left the box in the corner but now it sat directly in the middle... "Stop it Theon, your mind is playing tricks on you!" He crossed the room angrily, trying not to think about the stench that seemed to fill the air the closer he got, tricks! This is what he wants, he wants you to feel crazy! Don't give in! He picked up the lid and tossed it across the room and regret filled him, vomit coming up before he could stop it. "No," he screamed and then kept screaming until his voice was hoarse, his throat aching.

What sat inside in the box was a finger, delicate like that of a woman's and upon it was a blue diamond ring. Theon covered his mouth and staggered away from the desk, his legs weak underneath him, he had to find a phone, where had he left his cell, he needed the police. He hit something hard, causing him to stagger back a few steps before falling altogether, his eyes searching upward, what he saw only caused him to scream more despite it only coming out in a screech.

Ramsay Bolton stood there, that signature cold smile across his face. "You're so predictable," he says, his eyes roaming Theon's body. "But don't fret too much, Reek, we can be together now, just like I promised." Theon had landed on his back and now tried to scramble away but the imposing force was upon him, pinning him down as something wrapped tight around his throat. "You are mine."


End file.
